I'll Make You Say It
by J.Rease
Summary: "Apologize for slapping me..." Quinn says it with such conviction that Santana almost does it out of pure curiosity of what would come after. Santana smirks. "Make me." My take on the immediate aftermath of Naked. GP. Quinntana. Prompt Fill. Please read Author's note.


Title: I'll Make You Say It

Author: J Rease

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters and I make no profit from the use of them in this fiction.

Warnings: Girlpeen.

Summary: The Naked aftermath. GP. Quinntana. Quinn is going to make Santana say sorry if it's the last thing she does. Please read Author's note.

Author's Note: This is for Lauren. My beta. The original prompt request is listed below. This is unedited! Any mistakes will be fixed as soon as I get time, please excuse any you find until then.

** Quinntana, G!P, Rough angry sex turns into all their walls coming down, emotional confessions and love-making. Set after Naked. They've been drinking and Quinn wants an apology for the slap...**

**I'll Make You Say It**

The fake I.d. she has is barely passable. Like anyone would believe she's from Alaska Pfft- whatever. Quinn manages to get away with not getting carded at all, which pisses her off and elates her simultaneously (it's nice to know she'll always look younger, hotter, and thinner than the blonde). The bartender at the hotel bar kept filling their glasses up, so she aint complaining. Quinn was sloshed before Santana threw back her third shot; but nothing is new about that. She was wasted by the time Quinn was shitfaced, and they took the party back up to the hotel room. Four hotel room key swipes and two angry kicks to the door later, Santana finally managed to get into their room. Quinn giggled her way inside and collapsed onto the bed that wasn't hers before she kicked off her wedges.

"When are you going to apologize for slapping me? I've been waiting ever since you told Rachel that you would, you liar-"

Quinn's accusation tapers off into a hiccup, and Santana kicks off her own heels before tying her hair in a bun.

"Sleep it off, blondie- when I told you I would apologize, that was my apology."

"You're such a..." Quinn hiccups again before belching "...a bitch, Santana."

She laughs at Quinn as she struggles to unzip her dress.

"And you knew this for how long? And besides, you slapped me first."

Quinn tugs off her cardigan and flings it in the direction of the chair in the corner, her hiccups miraculously gone.

Santana rolls down her compression shorts and releases a sigh at the loss of restriction. Quinn is rubbing the side of her face, like some phantom sting still stung on her cheek.

"And while that's true, you totally deserved it, Santana!"

"No I didn't, you were the one in denial about your entire life, Fabray. Don't get mad at me for telling the truth!"

"I should kick you in the nuts, Santana."

"And kill all these beautiful Santana babies, doubt it."

Quinn looks up at the same time Santana tosses her dress over the back of the hotel room desk chair. She's standing in front of the blond in nothing but her underwear. She doesn't care, she's been nude in front of Quinn on numerous occaisions.

It's suddenly quiet. Quinn is staring at Santana, and she's biting her bottom lip in that totally unique Quinn Fabray kind of way (It's her "I'm thinking dirty things about you" lip bite). Santana is at a loss at what she's staring at until she follows Quinn's line of sight to her crotch. That's when Santana realizes that she's not completely flaccid. Which sometimes happens to her when she's drunk, honestly. Quinn finally catches herself staring and shakes the flush from her cheeks.

"Well the least you can do is apologize, Santana. You slapped me way harder than I slapped you!"

Santana knows this is a petty argument. But they've been drinking and Quinn's usually one of two types of drunks. Tonight, she assumes, Quinn feels like being angry. She plays along.

"Well that will teach you not to slap me in the face."

She grabs a bottle of water from the mini-fridge and downs it all before tossing it toward the trashcan. When she realizes that Quinn is still staring, she's a bit annoyed.

"What?"

Quinn pouts before palming her face again.

"Well you slapped me really, really hard..."

Santana chuckles. This is entertaining.

"It's not funny!" Quinn stands with both her hands balled up at her sides and Santana can't help but laugh harder.

"It definitely is."

Her laughter catches in her throat when she hears the growl tear up Quinn's throat as she saunters over to where Santana is standing. Before she knows what's happening, Quinn is pulling her by her ears until their mouths mash together in a disgusting echo of sound and sloppy wetness. She breaks away the moment Quinn moans into the back of her throat.

"Um... Quinn- I get that we're drunk and everything, but I'm not going to be your dirty little experiment-"

"Shut up."

Santana's mouth shuts without her permission. She can't help the heave of her chest as it shakily rises and falls from the kiss (so what, Quinn's mouth is amazing- not like she's going to tell blondie that).

"Apologize for slapping me..." Quinn says it with such conviction that Santana almost does it out of pure curiosity of what would come after. She refrains from giving Quinn what she wants and she smirks.

Quinn is centimeters from her face. Their bodies are still pressed together and Santana is still drunk; and definitely nowhere near flaccid. She totally sees this going somewhere dirty; but she still can't give in to Quinn and her demands.

"Make me."

She knows better. She knows Quinn better than she knows anyone. And she knows not to provoke her into doing anything while she's drunk. But Quinn looks hot when she's mad and honestly...she hasn't had sex in months (the girls in Kentucky would probably think she's a tranny and well... New York is more her speed). Q already knows about her schlong, so getting her into bed would totally rock right now. Her mind is so preoccupied that she doesn't register Quinn's facial expression.

Her face is flushed red and her eyes are more hooded than when she's sober. Santana gulps down the slight bit of uneasiness in her gut as Quinn's eyes refocus on Santana's before that sexy growl rips up her throat again and Santana has a mouthful of Quinn.

And yea, she's breathless.

The blond is kissing her sloppily, her head is moving fast and Santana has to remember that she can breathe so that she can actually respond to Quinn's assault. She's being pushed backward, and Quinn uses her weight to press her to the wall. It's totally hot; in that 'can't control my limbs because I'm still intoxicated and everything is tingling' kind of way.

And then, Quinn moves her hands.

There are fingers dragging across bare skin, cupping her breasts, squeezing her ass. Santana is taken aback by Quinn's forwardness until she realizes that she's so shocked that she isn't reciprocating. Quinn sucks her bottom lip and Santana kisses back harder, they move against each other ferociously, Quinn's wandering hands dip down and cup her hard on and she squeezes lightly.

"Ugghhhn, shit- Q don't do that unless-"

Quinn squeezes harder.

"Say it. Say you're sorry, Santana."

Her head falls with a loud thud against the wall. Quinn waits. She waits for Santana to apologize to her, with her cock still squeezed in her palm. Santana remains silent and looks down, enamored with how tiny Quinn's hand looks cupped around her growing erection. She bites her own lip before shaking her head, her words caught in her throat.

Quinn lets go. Santana releases a breathy sigh and Quinn leans into her space again to whisper in her ear.

"You're going to say you're sorry, San. And you're going to mean it..."

There's a witty retort on the tip of her tongue but she loses it the moment Quinn's fingertips dip under the wasitband of her briefs. There's a moment of complete panic at the feeling of skin on skin contact; and she's almost afraid she's going to pull a Finn, but she gains her composure and grins cockily at Quinn.

"I have no intentions of saying sorry..."

Quinn is still drunk. Hell, she's still drunk. But this is fun and there is a hand wrapped around her dick and it's soft and warm and she really doesn't care how weird things will be tomorrow-

Quinn strokes up her shaft. The 'Fuck' falls out of her mouth before she can stop it and Quinn's mouth latches on to Santana's neck. Quinn's mouth is hot and moist and her tongue swirls in a way that makes Santana's knees buckle.

"Shit, Q- is this what that professor taught you back at Yale?"

Quinn bites down on the flesh below her earlobe and sucks the spot. Quinn strokes her shaft again, thumbing the head of her dick in tight circles. She bucks her hips to the rhythm Quinn is setting until Quinn whispers in her ear again.

"Say it..."

Quinn's hand strokes quicker, and Santana hates to admit that she's close.

"No way-"

Quinn puts distance between them. Santana is vibrating. Everything is taught and tense and she hates that Quinn has her tenting her underwear. Her chest is heaving and her palms are sweating and Quinn is smirking way too much for her liking.

"You are such a bitch-"

"Yea San, well- you've known that for how long?"

She grunts in frustration. Quinn goes to turn away and something in Santana fuels her on. She tugs Quinn's wrist until she spins on her heel and she pulls her flush against her body and she kisses Quinn. She might still be tipsy, but she knows how to kiss a girl. She moves slowly, barely kissing Quinn in case she wants to back away; in case she's done playing these stupid mind games.

She arches into Santana and Santana seizes the moment. Her tongue traces the swell of Quinn's bottom lip and the girl shudders in her arms. It's definitely a turn on. Santana idly wonders how wet Quinn's panties are. She walks them over to the bed and they fall on top of it clumsily. Santana knows that this is more than an apology. Quinn is petty...but she wouldn't do something like this for something as simple as an I'm sorry. Santana rolls beside her and she drags her fingertips along the inside of Quinn's calf. Quinn's skirt bunches as she moves her fingers higher, and Santana doesn't look away from Quinn's eyes as she pushes her soaked panties to the side.

She hesitates touching the blond; no always means no- but Quinn never said no, and she sure as hell didn't ask her permission to fondle her dick so she zigzags two fingers down Quinn's slit. The blond nearly levitates off the bed, and Santana goes to work on her neck as she fingers the writhing girl beneath her.

She pulls back a finger and presses her middle digit to Quinn's clit, loving the face Quinn makes when she circles the hard nub. She leans in close to Quinn's ear and husks out a question.

"Did your old Professor get you off like this?"

Quinn bites her lip. Santana begins dragging moisture from Quinn's opening to her clit and back down again. She notices how hard Quinn's nipples poke through her top, she smirks and rests her temple against the open palm of her right hand and admires the view.

"No one's ever gotten me off... I doubt you'll be the first."

This challenges and infuriates Santana simultaneously. The audacity of Quinn to doubt her abilities.

"Is that a dare?"

She lets her single finger slide into her slowly, Quinn's breath hitches; her eyes close. Santana didn't realize how much she wanted this until she could feel Quinn pulse tightly around her finger. She pulls back and pushes in slowly, her finger curls up and the bottom of her palm taps softly against her clit. Quinn's voice is like liquid sex, and Santana can't help but get a little lightheaded at the subtle musk tickling her senses.

She's slightly aware of the liquor still lingering in the pit of her stomach. And she's also aware of the raging stiffy brushing against Quinn's hip. The one Quinn herself didn't take care of.

She pulls her finger out and pushes back in with two, her thumb finds Quinn's clit and she flicks it a few times while she pumps. Quinn's toes are pointed and her knees are pulling backward. Santana can feel Quinn's climax ripple patterns up and down her fingers; and she knows she's about to be the first to ever give the blonde an orgasm.

"You gonna come, Q? Around my fingers?"

Quinn looks down at her defiantly. Santana pumps harder into her and Quinn's face relaxes.

"Yes! Yes, God if you don't stop I might... I might-"

Santana feels muscles squeeze around her fingers. She feels something swell inside of Quinn, and she knows that a few more thrusts will force her over the edge. She pulls her hand backward slowly, and Quinn's rapid breathing quickens like she might just burst if Santana doesn't get her off.

She whimpers when Santana's hand falls from her sex.

"W-what are you doing?"

Quinn rubs absently at her face. She sits up quickly on her elbows and stares as Santana searches her suitcase for a t-shirt.

"Showing you how it feels to be left high and dry. Well...wet in your case." She chuckles.

"Are you serious? All you had to do was apologize! I wouldn't have stopped if you weren't being so stubborn!"

Quinn pauses and stares at her. Santana unties her hair and heads over to her own hotel bed.

Quinn reaches out and grips her elbow as she walks by.

"You're really not going to finish?"

She shakes her head. Her dick wants her to say yes and dive in, but Santana isn't going to lose this one.

"Don't be so petty, S..."

Quinn must have a whole lot more liquid courage burning in her veins than she does, because she rarely lets her desperation show. Santana just shakes her head and pulls her arm away.

"Don't start things you can't follow through with, Q."

"Who says I can't follow through?"

Quinn's in this weird place between pissed off and turned on and Santana would love to see the product of all that fury and repression.

"I say so; you're a cock tease kind of girl. That might be fun for your elderly boyfriend back at Yale with his impotence and sweater vest problem, but I like to get straight to the point. Have fun teasing your taco alone, Quinny."

Quinn is shaking her head.

"Why are you making this so hard!"

"Last time I checked, you were the one palming my dick. I don't feel like feeding your drunken curiosity, Quinn so-"

Quinn interrupts her with her mouth. They're kissing again; its firmer this time...lips crushing and forced against each other. Quinn's hand holds her in place at the hip; her softening bulge is pressing into her as Quinn shoves her tongue in Santana's mouth. The hand on her hip guides her backward, and Quinn pushes her down roughly on the other bed before reaching for the hem of her dress and tugging it over her head.

The look on her face is predatory. She isn't scared, but she's a bit nervous.

She can't move from the spot when Quinn straddles her. And Quinn starts rocking over her shaft like a professional and Santana rocks against her because she has no other choice. Quinn is kissing her and getting her hard and they're only wearing their underwear and if she doesn't stop Santana is going to be inside her very soon.

Quinn breaks the kiss.

"Are you really not going to apologize for slapping me?"

Quinn's eyes search hers sincerely. Santana rolls her eyes.

"I'm really not. Your slap was harder anyway. Stop complaining."

Quinn growls. She finds it amusing how angry Quinn is getting for not getting her way. She smirks and pulls Quinn closer to kiss her again.

"Why can't you just ever shut up and just do what you're asked, Santana?"

Quinn gets off Santana's lap to pull down her underwear before sitting back down.

Santana feels the wet warmth thumping against her briefs, and now would be the perfect time to just surrender, but she can't stop the retort from leaping off her tongue.

"Well, you're the one who needs to get off; so I feel like if anybody should be doing anything, it's you."

Quinn pushes her roughly backwards and she falls with her arms spread out at her sides. She's about to protest when she feels the blond tug her dick out of her briefs.

"Just shut up, Santana- you're ruining this for me."

"Ruining what-"

Quinn leans forward to kiss her again and Santana feels Quinn's fumbling hand press the head of her dick to her opening. Quinn rocks back and sheaths her cock inside her in a tight motion, and Santana groans at the suffocating slick of the girl's sopping sex. Quinn rocks up and down a few times with her eyes closed before sitting straight up and tilting her head back. Santana thrusts up a few times before Quinn's hands resting on her abdomen keeps her still as she finds a rhythym. She feels Quinn's thumbs meet below her navel as she lifts up slowly

Her cock swells at the sight of it.

She lets Quinn ride her with shaky breaths, her hand reaches up to knead her breasts. Quinn shudders up and down her shaft until Santana can feel the pressure of her lessen and relax around her cock. Santana enjoys the feeling of friction as Quinn rides her. It's a steady, strong rhythm of quick thrusts up and slick squeezes down; she watches Quinn work over her, she feels the heat and the wet of her until Quinn's breath catches as she flutters around her throbbing cock. She closes her eyes and rocks to a halt above Santana, and she feels Quinn's palms relax on her abs. Quinn flexes her thighs and sits unmoving on top of her. Her hands wander slowly up and down Santana's abdomen. Goosebumps follow her sweaty fingertips until Quinn is cupping her hands beneath her bra and pushing it upward. Santana sits up slightly and Quinn unclasps it and snatches it down. Santana reaches behind Quinn to do the same. Quinn's hands resume their trek up until Santana's eyes stutter closed when Quinn kneads her breasts in her hands.

"Keep your eyes open." Quinn lifts over her shaft and pounds down for emphasis. Santana chuckles and she opens her eyes, lifting her hands to Quinn's waist to add pressure to her stroke.

"You're not the boss of me, blondie."

Quinn stops and looks down at her, her lips parted, pupils blown and she's paused mid-stroke. "Looks like I'm boss right now, S."

Santana thrusts the rest of the way up, loving the curve of Quinn's back that told her that she's deep. Quinn releases surprised gasp and Santana rolls them over until Quinn is pinned beneath her.

"Looks like I'm boss now."

She kisses Quinn long and hard, and her lips gravitate toward Quinn's jaw as she grips Quinn's hips. Quinn hesitates for a second. The 'humph' that she grunts out before she wraps her legs around Santana's waist would be cute if she weren't so disappointed at the loss of control.

"I told you I would get you off...so let me."

Quinn's thighs tremble slightly and she clears her throat before whispering the simple "okay". They're close, face to face without distraction. Quinn's legs are locked at the ankle and Santana can feel her swollen flesh gripping around the girth of her dick. She pulls back before thrusting slowly inside her, and Quinn's mouth slacks when Santana slams in to the hilt.

She sets the pace sporadically, changing stroke whenever Quinn got too comfortable with the rhythm. Santana would thrust harder when Quinn would grunt and buck against her or slow it down whenever Quinn loosen her grip with her legs and lose her breath. Santana pulls out with a desperate whimper from Quinn. She pulls Quinn's legs further apart and she hooks her elbows under Quinn's knees. She slides back in slowly without resistance.

Her strokes are more purposed now. Quinn is watching her as she slides in and out of her body Sslowly; driving back in with a force that rocks Quinn's body up. Santana begins pounding into her, stroking into the ridges that she can feel on the inside of Quinn with the head of her cock. Her thrusts knocks a noise out of Quinn that sounds like nervous anticipation.

"Relax, Q...you're not going to finish if you think that hard about it. I got you, let go..."

Her thrusts are even and they hit the same spot with every stroke. She's sweating, and Quinn is breathing heavily below her with tension spreading through her limps.

"I-I don't know if I can, Santana."

Santana strokes through Quinn's uncertainty. Quinn's eyes squeeze shut as Santana pivots in and out of her. She can feel the swelling start; the flutter and convulsing muscles as they make a decision. Santana leans down to kiss Quinn, trying to distract her long enough to get her off. She breaks the kiss and continues pounding a rhythm into her sex, fatigued and extremely turned on from the quivering girl beneath her.

"I'll say it if you trust me."

Santana's hips are still moving. Quinn is moaning, her eyes struggling to stay open.

"You'll say what?" The intonation in Quinn's voice flexes with each movement Santana makes inside her.

"I'll apologize for slapping you if you trust me enough to let it happen."

Quinn's face is conflicted. She's flushed and gasping as Santana continues to move inside her. She looks afraid.

"It's... Just...overwhelmin-Oh God right there Santana! Please don't stop; don't ever stop! I'm so close."

Quinn's eyes are shut tight, and her teeth clench at her bottom lip as she takes the force of Santana's thrusting. Santana pants shallowly into her ear, she can feel Quinn cling to her shaft, tight pressure pulsing around her as she struggles not to be pushed out. She gets as close to Quinn's ear as her position allows and she husks it out between grunts.

"I'm sorry I slapped you."

Quinn explodes, Santana feels her insides spasm rapidly around her.

She feels Quinn convulse.

She feels her gush around her.

She feels her grip and thunder around her shaft until Quinn's body deflates and she trembles against Santana until her legs fall to the bed and her breath returns to normal. When Quinn opens her eyes, Santana is brushing strands of hair from her eyes. Tears trail cautiously down Quinn's cheek and she doesn't bother at all to wipe them away.

"You alright?"

Santana is still hard inside her, her shaft is treated to the aftershocks of Quinn's orgasm tingling patterns over her engorged flesh. Quinn nods at her with stars still stuck in her eyes, and she looks away bashfully as more tears tumble down her cheek. Santana lifts her weight onto her palms to get a better look at the blond.

"Hey, Q- don't cry. I know it's probably too much all at once but I'm sure you'll get used to it."

Quinn chuckles somberly.

"No, it's not that. No one has ever tried to make the experience something special for me. It's always about the chase...I guess. They all want me and when they get me they don't put in any more effort. But you just... You just gave me something really special and no one has ever cared enough to give me that. I know it's...pathetic. But this means so much to me..."

Santana moves to pull out of her, but Quinn stops her.

"Don't; I feel close to you...this way. Can we just stay like this for a little while?"

Santana nods. And settles more comfortably over top of her.

Quinn leans up to kiss her again. It's a tentative exploration and Santana kisses her back. This kiss is different. Santana can feel her heart beating where their lips meet. Quinn navigates the contours of her mouth util there is no more air between them and they have to pull away from each other for the simplicity of survival.

"Sometimes I would stay awake at night and wonder if I would ever get to do this with you. If you would ever figure out how much I wanted to be in Brittany's shoes..."

"What?" Santana feels like she would have noticed that. She feels like she would never be that oblivious to ignore something that...big. She realizes then how sober she is. It's terrifying to know how honest Quinn is being with her now; with almost all the liquid courage burned out of her system.

"I always thought that...Brittany took you from me. I was going to...I was working my way up to telling you that I've wanted this. But then you and her got together and...and suddenly I would never be an option. It hurt. And then things got petty and suddenly we were fighting all the time and all you could talk about was her; and how she deserved better than you." A lonely tear falls down Quinn's cheek. "...And all I ever thought was that it was the other way around."

Santana feels like she's been slapped in the face.

"Why not tell me sooner? I always thought- I thought you wouldn't date someone like me. Not a guy...not a girl- this awkward in between that just messes everything up. I thought I never had a chance with you. And then came Brittany who never judged me for what I am and I just...I took what I could get, Q and I fell in love on accident."

Quinn cups her cheek and Santana leans into it without hesitation.

"What about now? Can we try? Can we be an us?"

Santana didn't answer. She was never good with feelings and talking things over. She could show Quinn. She could prove it to her.

She kisses her as a rebuttal. She steals the last of her questions with her lips and she savors the taste of Quinn's mouth. Quinn rocks down against her still engorged shaft and Santana moans loudly into the back of Quinn's throat. She moves against her, rocking slowly in and out of her, never breaking eye contact as she felt the build up start over with Quinn's body.

Her stroke is soft and slow. It's easy and it's understanding and Quinn meets her thrusts like Santana gave her the choreography. They don't talk. The sounds that hit the air are breathless. Whispers in the whimpers of their bodies moving in tandem. The wet smack of their slow kissing, the sound of their skin rubbing. Quinn's arms grip around Santana's neck. Santana's palms hook on to Quinn's shoulders so she can stroke deeper without pulling too far away. The moist squish where their bodies meet and separate...join and release.

Quinn bites into Santana's shoulder when the familiar feeling grabs hold of her, a garble of scattered phrases flutter like Quinn's eyelids when Santana finds the space inside her the pushes drives her body haywire. They begin moaning in unison when Santana moves her hand down to Quinn's clit, and Quinn's insides tighten when the friction forces her into a climax.

Santana's stamina falters when Quinn climaxes. She pulls Santana closer to her as she anticipates the onslaught of her second orgasm.

"Quinn, you have to let me pull out I'm not going to be able to-"

"Come inside me...I want to feel you..."

Santana shudders through another stroke; heady with the thought of knowing she was going to fill her up; that she was going to overflow inside her. The pace is still slow, her hand begins running circles around Quinn's clit, and she pulls back before sliding in with purpose. Quinn is shaking. She's pulling and squeezing and scratching at Santana but she doesn't run away from the feeling. Santana can feel it building, the coil of tension a force that tickles down her shaft until Quinn spills over, until Santana lets go.

They collapse together, the air hot and thick, sounds too low to be heard over the gushing thrum of their hearbeats as they come down from their orgasms.

Santana pulls out, rolls sideways and pulls Quinn toward her.

She moves until Quinn is behind her. She pulls an arm around her midsection and Quinn scoots until she has her arms full of Santana.

"My body feels like jello..."

Santana chuckles.

"That's a good thing."

It's quiet for a while. Santana's thoughts get the best of her in hindsight. She turns to face Quinn, their knees puzzle piece together and they settle with sleepy eyes.

"I don't want to be one of those in the heat of the moment types, but I-"

Quinn interrupts her.

"I'm on the pill, Santana. And contrary to popular belief, I practice very safe sex. Not that I'm opposed to having a few of those beautiful Santana babies. But I just. I don't know if that's weird that it...got me excited."

"It's not weird."

Quinn's eyes droop.

Santana yawns.

"So what now?"

Santana half shrugs.

"I think I'm making my way to New York."

Quinn yawns.

"And if I so happen to transfer to a school there would I be welcome to come crash?"

Santana rests her head on Quinn's chest.

"Only if you promise to stay a while..."

Quinn smiles right before Santana's eyes slip closed.

She's almost asleep, sometime later when Quinn's voice reverberates against her eardrum.

"I totally made you say it..."

"You totally ruined it, Q. Totally ruined it."

End.

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